Never Enough Time
by grednforgesgirl
Summary: Because he needs her, even if she hasn't met him yet. 11/Rose
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**_ Alrighty then, people. Hello, me again! I have returned, to update this story! Because I've finally decided to have this story Beta-read by the fantastic SapphireNight. She is fantastic, absolutely fantastic. Many thanks to her, because she's improved this story so much by her incredible editing of it! We've just got the first chapter done for now, and I've got her roped into editing more, though it will take a while, as we're both so busy! But anyway, thanks so much to her!_

_Also, as an updated note…oh my God, seriously? SEVENTY reviews?! For a four-part +epilogue story?! How did this happen?! You guys are amazing, you really are. Thanks so much!_

_Anyway, off we go! Allons-y! Or rather...er...this is 11..._

_Geronimo!_

** -CHAPTER ONE-**

-?-

The Doctor never looked back.

Running, running, always running. Running away. Running away from the past. Away from the pain. From the guilt. _Oh,_ so much guilt.

Some thought this meant he forgot. That as soon as they were gone and he never mentioned them again that he just forgets.

This wasn't true.

The Doctor never forgets.

He hoards things, like a magpie, like an old miser. The TARDIS is full of their stuff; old jewellery, lipstick, clothes, drawings, pictures, photographs, souvenirs, stethoscopes, hatboxes, Roman armour, even a paper Mache TARDIS. Old memories, long gone. He never throws anything away. He's too damn sentimental. Their rooms are always exactly how they left them, as if they'd only just popped out for another quick adventure. It felt comforting, feeling as though they could pop back any moment, rather than the cold hard truth—they had left him, years—sometimes decades, centuries—ago.

Sometimes he goes in their rooms and sits, not disturbing anything, but sitting and closing his eyes. Smelling their scent and pretending that maybe, _just maybe,_ they'd be back. Any second, they'd waltz back into their rooms like they'd waltzed into his life all those years ago and stolen his hearts.

In the end, they always left them broken.

It's the same story, over and over again. They forget, they fall in love, they're abandoned, they leave, and they die. He picks them up out of nowhere, and it always starts with those same two words;

Doctor _who?_

His hearts budge up space and make infinite amounts of room for them. They have adventures, saving worlds, universes, sometimes the whole of reality…and then they're gone, and he's left alone. Traveling the universe when he should never be alone, the madman with a box.

The Doctor can never look back.

But sometimes, _oh_ just sometimes, there are things that remind him of _her._

He doesn't always think of her, oh no. With his regeneration, it became so much easier not to pine. Not every little thing reminded him of _her._ A new desktop theme, a new Doctor, a bowtie instead of Chucks and he no longer felt her ghost haunting his every step. But it was still there, it was always there, like the ghosts of all his former companions. Like Susan, like Sarah-Jane. Like Romana and Jamie. Adric and Peri. The Brigadier and Captain Jack. Leela and Grace. His ghosts.

Blonde hair, tongue-in-teeth smiles, promises of forever and _run._ Sometimes. Just sometimes.

Sometimes, it becomes impossible to forget Rose Tyler.

So whenever he spotted the Ponds in those special, precious moments when they forgot he was in the room, unbidden in his mind comes an image of her. When the moment comes, for him to elope with his bespoke psychopath to save the universe, instead of appreciating River for who she was, who she will be…unwelcome in his mind comes the thought of a heartbroken, jealous Rose.

He wasted so much time.

He would do anything, anything at all, for one more day. One more day, just one, and he'd tell her everything he never got to say.

And it's only after he's lost the Ponds, as he sits on his cloud above Victorian London. His hearts, broken from two losses too many. Withdrawn, alone, aloof. Like Time Lords are meant to be. He'd no longer interfere. All it caused was pain. After all this running, he finally understood why the Time Lords stood still.

His thoughts are too full of ginger hair and the couple who waited. _Come along, Ponds._ And then, gone. In the blink of an eye.

So he doesn't do it anymore. He doesn't save the world anymore. Because all he gets in return is _pain._

There was no hope. Vincent Van Gogh was right. The Doctor was wrong. There was never any hope. Hope didn't matter, anyway, because he'd always, _always_, end up with his hearts broken anyway, cracked even more deeply than before.

And he sits, in that new chair in his darker TARDIS. Darker, darkness. That's how he likes it now. It makes it a bit difficult to read, but that's alright. He's got Pond's spectacles. And it's years, years and years, before he can even move from that chair.

And it's all because of the book. The book he pulled from the self at random. That book that was _her_ favorite, that she'd curl up with at the end of an adventure. Socked feet tucked under a blanket, blonde hair curling around her finger as her eyes darted back and forth across the ancient pages. At first he thinks it's just another dull blow to his crumbling soul, but then…then he has an idea. An insane, completely mad idea.

It would pull him out of the darkness, but it would send him spiraling even deeper into that darkness after. But it didn't matter. He could worry about that later. Because sometimes, he thinks he's self-destructive on purpose. Sometimes, he thinks he runs towards the pain instead of away from it. Sometimes, he thinks he likes it.

It scares him so much.

He's mad. He's completely lost it and he knows it. He knows how much it will hurt, and yet he doesn't care.

But he dashes around the TARDIS console anyway, sets the coordinates to the one place he swore he'd never go again. Not unless, by some small miracle…well, anything for a glance of her. She who made him better. She could make him better again, couldn't she? And she won't know him, won't recognize him, because she hasn't met him yet. She never has known this face, and he can pass through her timeline like a ghost.

It's not as if this is his first time thinking about it, oh no. Not so long ago, when he was faced with a final death at the hands of an impossible astronaut, he'd thought of going back. One last cheeky smile. One last glance. One last sight of rosy cheeks and blonde hair and one last beautiful thing to make him smile.

But he'd put it off, afraid of the pain. After all, when he'd actually came back, _oh_ so many years ago when he wanted her face to be the last face that face saw, it'd hurt so much. But he'd known it was worth it. And when he'd been about to die, he couldn't. He couldn't go back, because it was already time. Time for him to die.

Now, he had all the time in the worlds. Because he doesn't save people anymore. He only saves himself.

The TARDIS grates, sounding slightly aggravated, as he parks her outside the council estate. She knows, as he does, it's a bad idea. But she lands anyway, taking him to the right time and place for once, because she can't resist seeing their Rose any more than he can.

The display screen reads 1991, and somehow, he just knows. It's Christmas.

He'll stay in the TARDIS, he tells himself; he won't go outside. He'll only wait to catch a glimpse of her on the scanner. He knows that he'll recognize her (how could he not?) even though she's only five years old.

He doesn't have to wait long. He clings to the scanner as he watches. He spots the little pink girl barrel down the council stairs as her mother's struggling to keep up. Jackie looks worn out. Tired. Rose keeps her on her toes, he can guess. But she looks happy, and he knows it's because of Rose.

He looks on, with tears in his eyes, as she makes a snowmen. His hearts are full to busting as he spies. Because, _oh,_ isn't she beautiful, even so young, and isn't she just as precious as she always was. His precious Rose. He can't tear himself away from her smiling face. He can't leave, even long after she goes back inside and her little snowman sits as though a testament.

One trip, that's all he'd give himself. One trip. One stolen moment. That's all, one trip. _Just one trip._

And yet he finds himself at the TARDIS console, setting the coordinates, not back to Victorian London and his cloud, but to a couple of years into the future, the same spot. And this time, he steps out. This time, he sits on a bench, the lonely old man, and waits outside a council estate for one glimpse of his love.

It's spring now. Early spring, the grass and trees still clinging to that last bit of winter as the snow melts delicately from their branches. Here and there, little flowers pop up, searching, reaching, desperately for the bright shining ray of hope, the sun. He's doing the same as they, searching for hope. For one sight of his pink-and-yellow girl. His own little ray of sunshine.

He watches as she skips past him, a knapsack hanging from her shoulder and a Barbie lunchbox swinging from her hand. That hand he used to hold. He never thought the day would come when he'd be jealous of a Barbie lunchbox, but there it was. She never looks round at him, the man staring at her so intently. He supposes that's a good thing, because he doesn't want to scare her. He doesn't want her to think he's a creepy, weird man. And old, so old, to her just a grown up, but to him so, so old. She's so young. But it doesn't matter. They're all young to him. The eight year old girl; the ninety year old man. They're all just children to him. He, who has lived so long. Too long.

It's only after she's long gone that he gets back in the TARDIS. He knows what he's doing this time and yet he doesn't care. He sets the coordinates for three years in the future, and he lands in a playground. _This_ playground, the same one on the council estate, where he landed that fateful day of ghosts, that same day she let go.

But it's not that day, it's years before that day. It's summer, now, and it's hot, the sun blazing overhead and warming his tweed covered shoulders. The kids are playing, and he sits on the swing, the lonely old man, lost in thought, waiting.

Soon she arrives, with a black boy a bit older than her, and he knows it's Mickey. He's a bit scrawny, and the Doctor wants to laugh at Mickey the idiot. In fact he files it away under things to tease him about later, should he ever run into Mickey the idiot again. He's so young, and yet the Doctor can see in his eyes. That protective glare, that watchful gaze. He takes care of her, because she's got no one else. He loves her already, the Doctor can tell, even though Mickey himself probably has no clue.

But the real treat is in watching her, with her blonde hair in two plaits, as she laughs and plays and teases Mickey. The Doctor can't help but smile with her. How long has it been since he smiled? Not since before he lost Amy. He's not really, properly smiled, out of simple, pure happiness, since he lost Rose.

And here he is, grinning like a fool in love, and it's only because she's right there, smiling with her tongue in her teeth.

He so lost in his thoughts that she takes him by surprise, suddenly appearing on the swing next to him and staring at him as though she knows exactly who he is and can see right through to his soul, even though it's quite impossible. Not least because she hasn't even met him yet.

"Hello," she says, and his hearts are so full they might bust as she smiles at him and he smiles right back, bottom lip twitching almost imperceptibly.

"Hello," he says, his voice breaking, just a little bit. It's only when she's smiling at him like that with those big hazel eyes—and she hasn't even _met_ him yet—that it fully hits him just how much he _misses _her.

"I'm Rose," she tells him, matter-of-factly.

"Hello, Rose," he responds. She wriggles her way into his hearts once more, and makes her home there as she smiles at him. He'd forgotten how easily she did that. "It's very nice to meet you."

She kicks off the ground and she swings, watching him.

"Why are you so sad?" she asks him.

Oh, his Rose! He laughs. Oh, his lovely, clever Rose, who doesn't even take notice when he's being attacked by a plastic hand, and yet can see right into him. _Oh,_ his Rose!

"I'm not sad," he tells her, even though it's a boldfaced lie, and she knows it too. "Not anymore."

_Not after seeing you again._

Little Rose peers at him inquisitively, and he's sure he's about to be graced with a magnificent, fantastic Rose-observation.

"You are, though. I can tell. You're like my mum," she tells him, and he blinks at this, taken aback. In no way was he like Jackie. "You smile when there's people around, and then when there's no one looking you're sad."

She floors him with this astute observation, because he really thought that Rose never paid attention to things like that. But now, he knows better, as he realizes this part of her personality he never noticed. She always knew things like that. She always saw, right into the heart of everyone. She just never spoke, being quietly observant, seeing everyone and speaking only when it was best for others. Even after all this time, she still has the ability to surprise him. He thought he knew her, so well. And now he realizes there were still so many things about her he didn't know, would never know.

"You're very clever, to notice that," the Doctor says playfully, his eyes alight. His shoulders quirk, digging into the chain of his swing as he kicks his feet and leans in, swaying back and forth.

"Really?" she says, her eyes and smile brightening; and he realizes that she must not receive many compliments on just how bright she is. Of course, he's not sure if anyone other than himself notices just how intelligent she it.

"Oh yes," he says, eyes twinkling. "The cleverest little girl I've ever met."

And then she smiles so brightly it hurts.

"Rose!" calls Mickey, realizing he's lost track of her. Rose huffs in annoyance and the Doctor grins. Some things never change.

"I've got to go," she tells him, jumping off the swing. "It was nice meeting you!"

"It was nice meeting you too, Rose," he tells her. She grins, her tongue touching her teeth, her eyes bright. She skips back to Mickey, standing up just that much straighter, shoulders more confident than before. And he realizes, as she rejoins the boy, what it must have felt like for Mickey all those years every time she walked away from him and went back to the Doctor. He knows, because he feels it now. But at the moment, his hearts are too full of Rose right now to feel guilty for how Mickey was treated. They always were.

Rose tugs on Mickey's sleeve, and points back at the lonely old man sitting on the swing. Mickey looks back, giving the Doctor a suspicious look. The Doctor smiles in amusement, nostalgic. Some things really do never change.

The moment Rose and Mickey leave his sight he goes back to the TARDIS.

He should go, he realizes; he should really, really go. Go back to his cloud, back to his isolation. He shouldn't interfere in her life anymore. He's seen his Rose now, and that's what he came for. But he knows—as well as he knew when the idea popped into his head, that three glimpses of her would never be enough. And so he struggles very little as he re-sets the coordinates, pops just a few years into the future, just a very few. Last trip. _Last trip._ He keeps telling himself, but he knows he'll never listen. He never does.

And really, he never listens to his rules when it comes to Rose anyway.

-?-


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:**_ Warning, here there be Angsty Doc! This chapter is the reason this is rated T. _

**-CHAPTER TWO-**

-?-

The first thing he hears when he steps out of the TARDIS are police sirens. It's late at night, and the harsh street lights cast an orange glare over the dank London street. The whole scene gives an air of foreboding, and he knows he should go, before something happens and he screws up her timeline. And yet he can't help himself, because then he sees her.

She's maybe seventeen now, close to turning eighteen, and she looks so much like the Rose he knows his hearts ache. She's wearing that black coat lined with fur he's seen her wear so many times. The sight of her so familiar sends him into déjà vu, almost sends him mad, because he could swear he was wearing leather instead of tweed, and he wants her to turn and smile at him, he wants her to chase after him and question his ear off. He wants her to come with him to see the stars.

She doesn't though, she doesn't notice him. Because she's not alone.

It's not Mickey with her, that much is clear. He's a punk, the Doctor can tell, a little bit of a gangster who thinks he's cool, with his sagging pants and earrings, and the Doctor knows this boy is _not_ cool. Because he treats Rose like a possession, he can tell by the way he ignores her, by the way he doesn't hold her hand, by the glare of contempt the boy gives her. The Doctor doesn't like this boy, and wonders why on Earth Rose would want to hang out with him.

"Jimmy, are you listening to me?" Rose says to him in an irritated voice.

Jimmy. Jimmy Stone. The reason Rose never finished her A-levels.

Jimmy gives Rose a castaway glance.

"Whatever," he says. And the Doctor feels the overwhelming need to punch him.

The Doctor follows them for a few blocks, staying in the shadows, intent on their conversation. He feels the need to stay with Rose, to protect her from this boy, though he knows he shouldn't interfere. A few blocks later, they break out into a fight, and the Doctor's anger is on it's tipping point as he treats her like dirt.

It's not a lover's spat, like he and Rose would have, all blazing eyes and unresolved sexual tension and with the next verbal blow unsure if the response would be to shout back or to give in and snog each other senseless. It's not like that at all. Jimmy Stone yells at her, calls her worthless, calls her terrible names and he hurts Rose, hits her right where she's hurting, where she's unsure of herself, where she's insecure. He calls her dumb and stupid and worthless and the Doctor sees tears spring to her eyes.

And oh, his lovely Rose, she tries to fight back, she really does, but she doesn't know where to hit to make him stop, she doesn't quite know how to fight him. And he understands both why she's with him and why she can't fight him: she can't get a read on him. She can't figure him out, and she wants to. She doesn't quite know that's the reason, oh no, she thinks it's love. And with each blind insult the Doctor can see Jimmy Stone's anger and irritation rising, and when Rose's anger reaches it's peak and she finally pounds him on the chest with her fists, Jimmy Stone becomes a monster.

He backhands her across the face, and she stumbles back, clutching her cheek, tears pouring from her mascara-clad eyes. He shouts at her, and says she doesn't deserve someone like him, that he can do so much better, and she's lucky he's still with her. He grabs her roughly by the arm and shakes her.

The Doctor now stood by in the shadows, knowing he mustn't interfere. But his anger grew from irritation into the Oncoming Storm when Jimmy Stone laid a finger on his Rose. Nobody hurts his Rose. _Nobody._ His restraint was admirable, but it was only on a very, very thin thread.

And it was only when Jimmy Stone raised his fist to hit Rose, that the Doctor could not stand by in the shadows.

He ran. He ran forward and ripped Jimmy Stone from Rose, pinning him against the brick wall with a strength that surprised even the Doctor. He wedged his arm under the boy's throat, lifting him up several inches off the ground. The boy flailed, looking shocked and scared. And who wouldn't be? The Doctor was livid, growling, spitting, angry, as he glared into the boy's eyes and poured into him every bit of fear the Doctor held within his hearts.

"Woah, woah, man, look, just let me go! Calm down, alright!" said Jimmy Stone, who had thrown his hands up in the general signal for surrender. It wasn't everyday he was met with such an intimidating force in the package of a skinny man in a bowtie. "Just let me go, man!"

The Doctor did not drop him, though. Because the Doctor was now the Oncoming Storm, and he's rip the boy's throat out with his bare hands, he really would, he swore he would. No one hurt his Rose. There was no power on this Earth that could stop him now.

Except her.

"Don't!" cried Rose. And she came up behind him, and placed a hand on his arm, and the Doctor's hearts stopped at the contact. Rose tugged on his arm, trying to pull him back. "Don't, please."

The bloodlust inside the Doctor subsided as he looked over and green eyes met big, wet brown. A purple bruise was already forming on her cheek and she was bleeding.

"How many times, Rose?" he growled at her. "How many times has he done this to you, this little weasel? How many times has he hurt you?"

Rose's hand on his arm was shaking, and he could tell by the look in her eye it wasn't the first.

"Just…just let him go, alright? It's no big deal. I can handle it," said Rose. She was obviously frightened by him, this man she didn't know at all yet but knew _so well._

The Doctor laughed, an out-of-control, manic laugh.

"And you just _let him?_" he snorted, shoving his face in Jimmy Stone's, and the boy cowered. "You just let this little _filth_ hurt you?"

"No!" exclaimed Rose, feeling the need to defend herself. "No, I just…It's not…it's not what you think!"

The Doctor growled, and laughed madly, throwing yet more weight into Jimmy Stone's windpipe. "Oh, Rose, it's exactly what I think. This disgusting little filth of humanity is so little, so insecure, that the only thing that gives him any sense of power is to control women. He will amount to _nothing_. He'll end up in a jail cell because he'll have murdered or raped or hit one woman too far…well, let me tell you, _Jimmy Stone,_ I've got your number, and you've picked the _wrong woman_ to hurt today, you filthy little swine."

Rose tugged at his arm, attempting to pull him away from Jimmy.

"Please, just let him go," she whispered, in just the right way, and she tugged at his heartstrings and reminded him that he would regret it if he killed Jimmy Stone, even though she did not realize it.

The anger did not die, but he was in control again, thanks to her. He would not kill Jimmy Stone. But he was a far cry from finished with him.

"Don't you _touch_ a hair on her head," the Doctor growled at the boy, throwing him against the brick wall for emphasis. "_Ever _again. Or so help me I will _find_ you, I will _find_ you and you will regret the day you were ever born."

"Okay, okay, man, just listen, just let me go, alright?" whimpered Jimmy Stone.

The Doctor threw Jimmy Stone against the wall, letting him go with a disgusted snarl of his teeth. The boy slid down the wall.

"Run," said the Doctor to him. Jimmy Stone did not respond immediately, and the Doctor shouted, his voice full of anger, _"RUN!"_

Jimmy Stone scarpered, running down the street at full speed away from the Doctor. Breathing heavily, the Doctor turned away from the wall, and away from Rose, and tried to get himself under control. Rose stood a few feet away from him, looking torn between chasing after Jimmy or staying with him. The Doctor knew she really didn't want to go after Jimmy Stone. But the Doctor also knew he had scared her. He turned back to Rose.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "I'm sorry if I scared you."

She shook her head, his brave Rose, denying she was ever scared. "No, no, 'm fine."

The Doctor took a deep breath, feeling his heartbeats return to normal. He looked over at her, and the bruise on her cheek threatened to throw him into the dark place again.

"Are you alright?" he asked, coming towards her. She took an almost involuntary step back, and that wounded the Doctor a little bit, though it was completely justified. He softened his posture. "It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm a Doctor."

She let him approach her, and he examined the bruise and cut on her cheek. He withdrew from his bigger-on-the-inside pockets a clean cloth, and dabbed at the blood on her cheek, cleaning her wound. Her gaze burned into him as he touched her, ever so gently. Inquired. Determined. Brave. Questioning.

"Who are you?" she whispered to him. He closed his mouth firmly. He could not tell her the truth. She was only little more than a year away from knowing him, and who knew what it would do to their timelines if she discovered him before _"Run!"_

"I'm…nobody," he told her, as he stuck the cloth back in his pocket and pulled out an icepack. She didn't notice the fact he was carrying an icepack in his pocket (of course she didn't). He placed it on her cheek, and took her hand (his hearts raced, he never thought he'd feel her hand in his again. He'd almost forgotten how wonderful it felt). He squeezed it gently, unable to help himself, lacing his fingers through hers, before placing it over the icepack to hold it in place.

"That's bullshit," she told him. He sighed. "I know you from somewhere."

"Not yet," he said, the words slipping from his traitorous tongue. "But you will, Rose Tyler. Oh, will you know me. So well."

Her mouth opened, her brow furrowed. Confusion etched in her eyes, and he reluctantly let go of her hand.

"How do you know who I am?"

The Doctor merely smiled enigmatically, his eyes full of sadness and secrets.

"Go home, Rose Tyler. And don't let Jimmy Stone come near you again."

Rose's eyes were confused, but, oh, his precious girl, she was so brave and clever. She swallowed, and smiled at him. His hearts raced as she reached to his collar, and straightened his bow tie.

"I like your bow tie," she says, "It's cool."

It was hard to describe the feeling she gave him from her approval of his bow tie, but it was something akin to pure joy. He smiled a happy smile and she smiled back. Before she could withdraw her hand from his bow tie, he caught it and pressed his lips to her soft skin. Rose looked at him, with a wondrous sort of _who are you?_ look.

He doesn't know how he ever managed to be strong enough to do so, but somehow he managed it. He let her go.

It was one of the hardest things he had ever done, no, scratch that, leaving her on a beach with his duplicate and letting her go was definitely harder. Letting her go was so much harder. Oh, screw it. He was always letting her go and it would be equally hard every time.

The Doctor walked away.

"But..." she called after him, and the Doctor turned (he always would). "But who are you? How do I know you? What's your name?"

"John Smith," he said automatically. It wouldn't mean anything to her now, but maybe, just maybe, a long way down the road when she remembered this, in her alternate world with her duplicate Doctor, she would realize who it was who had saved her tonight. She would tell him and he would realize and explain. And she would know that he missed her. _Oh_ how he missed her. "Goodbye, Rose Tyler."

And he turned and went back to his TARDIS. She followed him, like he knew she would, but he was long gone by the time she arrived where the TARDIS had been. But she had heard, if only for a moment, the grinding of the TARDIS engines.

The Doctor stood hunched over the console, knowing that should be it, he should go. He had seen her, he had saved her, and now he should go. His hearts were already breaking, after all. Just as he knew they would.

But the damage _was_ already done…could one more trip really hurt?

With pursed lips, conflicted eyes, and a quivering chin, he pulled the wibbly lever.

-?-

**A/N:**_ Please leave a little review! Or a big one. Or anything at all, really. I'm not really all that fussed. :)_


	3. Chapter 3

**-CHAPTER THREE-**

-?-

He landed outside the Powell Estate, only a short jump this time, a few months ahead. The TARDIS doors creaked as he shut them behind him. He knows what it is this time, he knows what he's meant to do, what he's here for. So he goes up that familiar flight of stairs, and he wanders the hall, and he accidentally-on-purpose runs into a very irate Jackie Tyler.

She doesn't know him (how could she?) but she points a finger at him all the same, and he can see the face coming on, the _what-have-you-done-to-my-daughter-this-time_ face, and she goes off on a rant about Rose and interfering boys and failing grades and hopeless futures because Rose was never going to graduate at this rate (if only Jackie knew that only by not graduating would their futures hold something wonderful), and you! You go talk to her because she never listens to her mother!

The Doctor almost laughs, because if Jackie ever knew who he was...

Jackie brushes past him irately, and (he really can't help himself), he pushes down on the door handle of that old flat.

The memories hit him, and he's decked out in leather, arms folded crossly, as Rose pulls him inside this flat for the first time. He's wearing a long coat and pinstripes and Jackie is over exuberant in greeting him. He's opening this door in his new clothes at Christmas, and Rose looks up at his new face and smiles.

And now, here he is in tweed, braces, and a bowtie, and Rose looks up at him as he enters and smiles the exact same way she did, will do. And he smiles back softly.

"Hello," he says softly.

"It's you," she whispers. She stands, eyes full of questions he cannot answer. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh I was just popping in to say hello, and I ran into your mother, who seems very concerned about your grades."

This is the best deflection he thinks he's ever used, because then Rose fusses and moans (typical, he thinks with a smile), becomes irritated.

"Typical of her, complainin' to a complete stranger. And she sends you in to talk to me?"

"Well…" he doesn't need to say. His face says it all. She huffs.

"She is so gonna get it when she gets back."

The Doctor smiles. "Of that I have no doubt."

"Ya' want a cup o' tea?" she asks him, remembering her manners.

"Perfect for heating the synapses," he tells her. And she smiles awkwardly, because she really has no idea what he's talking about. He clarifies. "Yes, I'd like that."

He follows her into the kitchen and stands in the doorway as he watches her talk and make tea, and it's so achingly familiar that his hearts could not possibly be any fuller. Oh, how he's missed her.

"So what is it that's giving you trouble with school?" he asks her. She frowns, and hands him a mug of tea.

"It's nothing, really, mum's just overreacting."

He can spot this lie a mile away. As soon as she glances up at him she can tell she's been caught.

"It's not…it's not that I don't…I'm just…" she sighs, and runs a hand through her blonde hair. She sits at the table, and gestures for him to do the same. He sits at the oh so familiar table, and watches her, waiting for her to speak. "I'm not cut out for this school stuff."

"Nobody is," he tells her with a smirk, like he's told her a great secret. She smiles back at him, her tongue catching her teeth. His hearts skip a beat. "I was never cut out for school. Ugh, all stuffy and boring, who wants all that? There's adventures to be had while they're sitting in their stuffy, boring lecture halls!"

She laughs then, a real, honest to goodness laugh. And he chuckles right along with her, because when Rose smiles, she lights up his whole world. Then she takes a sip of her tea, and her laughs fades, and she looks at him.

"I never got to thank you for saving me," she says.

"Anytime," he answers. Then he laughs. "Literally."

Rose bites her lip. "Are you ever going to tell me who you are?"

He sighs, looks down at his tea, takes a sip before he looks back at her. "Someday, Rose Tyler. Someday, I might tell you everything. I really hope I do. Someday, you will know me better than you know anyone, and I you. Someday, we'll save each other and have lots of wonderful adventures."

Her eyes light up at this, because she trusts him, oddly. She shouldn't, because he's screwed up her life so badly, but she still trusts him, even though she doesn't know him yet. Even though he will probably never see her again.

"And someday, I'll leave you, and we'll both be heartbroken, but you'll have a wonderful, fantastic life, and you'll be happy. And that's all that matters."

"But what about you?"

"I'll be alright. I'm always alright."

Rose shakes her head. She stands, and turns her back. He blinks and wipes away a tear before she notices.

"And you'll forget about this, Rose, for a while. But then, maybe, someday, you'll remember, and you'll understand. And I really just want you to know…that I _miss_ you. And that I—" he pauses. He still can't say it. "That I'm sorry."

Rose doesn't turn back to him, but he hears her take a deep breath.

"Can I help you with your homework?" he asks her. She turns around to look at him. He smiles earnestly at her, and she frowns.

"What d'you wanna do that for?" she asks.

"Because I care about you," he tells her softly. "And I want to help you."

He knows it's a lost cause, that she's doomed to never pass her A-levels, (at least in this universe), but he can't bear to leave her just yet.

"Why should you?" she asks him. Uh-oh. She's getting angry now, and now he's got to head her off. "Why should you care about me? I don't even know who you are."

"Does that matter?" he asks.

"Yes, it matters! Of course it matters! You're a complete stranger! And you waltz in here like—and you save me from my boyfriend and—"

"He's not still your boyfriend?" growls the Doctor dangerously. Rose sighs.

"That's none of your business."

The Doctor purses his lips.

"I think it is!" he tells her. "He's abusing you, Rose! He doesn't appreciate you! He's a little slimeball who doesn't know what he has! If he did—"

"What?" she dared him.

The Doctor hesitated.

"If he did he'd never lay a finger on you."

"And why's that?" she egged him on.

"Because you are too precious to hurt!" he explodes, finally, and they glare at each other, daring each other to continue, and the Doctor lowers his eyes first, because he knows if he goes on he'll give away information he shouldn't. "I've told you too much already," he mutters allowed. "Foreknowledge…dangerous thing."

"What _are_ you on about?" she says. "Are you just a complete nutter?"

"Yup, that's me, a complete nutter," he says. Suddenly, he's very tired. He's the old man again, weary, whose seen too much and lost too much. He slumps back in his chair, and drinks his tea in silence. Neither of them say anything. A few minutes pass before Rose gets up, leaves, and comes back with a stackload of papers and textbooks.

"Fine," she tells him. He smiles once again, and so does she.

They sit there for hours, and the Doctor cherishes every extra second he gets with her as he steadily helps her get through her homework. Correcting her math, giving her extra history lessons, commenting on everything wrong in the science textbook, and, had it been anyone but the Doctor and Rose, he probably would've been intolerable, but it was Rose, and she could listen to him talk for hours, even though she didn't even know him yet. They go through several cups of tea and several packages of Jammy Dodgers, and, while Rose can't wait to get it all over with, the Doctor dreads the moment they close the last textbook.

"It doesn't even matter, really," says Rose, caught up on a math problem. He looks up at her, and wonders if she knows. "I'm never gonna pass my A-levels. I'm not smart enough or clever enough."

He's horrified at the way she puts herself down. That, _that_, is something he will never let come to pass. Doesn't she know how wonderful she really is?

He puts down her calculator (he doesn't really need it, he's just pretending for her sake), and takes her hands in his, taking her somewhat by surprise. His hand slips onto her cheek and cradles her head. She looks somewhat uncomfortable with these familiar touches from a stranger, but she doesn't pull away, and for that he is grateful.

"Don't ever talk about yourself like that, Rose Tyler. You…you have no idea," he says, eyes passionate. She's held by his fierce gaze, and she listens. "You are…you are _beautiful_, and _brilliant_, and _clever_ and…and _fantastic._ Don't ever think you're anything less."

He wants to kiss her, to show her just how fantastic she is. He wants to run away with her and take her away in the blue box, timelines be damned. He could have her, he could have her right now. All he had to do was ask her if she wanted to see the stars. Forget paradoxes, forget the laws of Time. He needed her. He needed her so badly.

But he could never have her. Not really. Because he knew, the paradox _would _be too much, and he might blow a hole in the universe just for Rose Tyler. It was his pain which brought him here, and it was the memory of her, and if he took that away from his past self he might just blink out of existence. He needs her now, but he needed her back then so much more. He can't change his own history and he knows that, but the temptation to…

He lets go of her.

He shows her how to do the math problem and they get through her homework. That last textbook closes, and his time with her is over. Jackie walks in just as Rose is putting her homework away, and she looks absolutely flabbergasted.

"What?"

"Just as you say, Jackie," says the Doctor to Jackie, jumping up. He pats her cheek. "Helped her with her homework. Talked to her. All that jazz. Now, I really must be off. I've got an appointment with some snowmen, you see. Can't be late."

"Hold on! How d'you know my name? Did you say _snowmen?"_

He rushes to the door, but spins to look at her one last time. "See ya around, Jackie Tyler," he says cheekily. Then he winks at Rose, and she grins.

He rushes out of there, runs, really, can't bear to look back. But she follows him, as he should've known she would. He stops just outside the doors to their building, knowing he can't let her see the TARDIS, that the timelines would fracture because of it, and because the temptation for him would be much, much too strong.

"Where are you going?" she asks him.

"1892," he tells her.

She shakes her head, shaking off her confusion.

"Is that, like, an address, or what?"

The Doctor smiles sadly, (oh, his Rose. He loves the way she thinks). He sighs. "No," he tells her. He takes her hand, and she bites her lip.

She looks him in the eyes, and seems to realize she's not going to get a clearer answer on his destination.

"Am I ever gonna see you again?" she asks quietly. And he's transported to a beach in Norway briefly before closing his eyes, and focusing on the present. He cradles her cheek in his palm once again, hunches down to look her in the eye, and smiles at her wonderingly.

"Yes," he whispers in an enchanted voice. Because he's so happy to answer this question in the affirmative this time. "Yes, you will."

She smiles at him beautifully, happily. And he smiles back, his eyes lit up like the stars, hiding the pain in his hearts that_ he_ will never see _her_ again. He had to be brave for her, though, he had to keep smiling. Because she had so many wonderful things to come.

He pulls her to him, and kisses her gently on the temple. She gives him _that look,_ when he pulls back, and suddenly, quite suddenly, he finds his lapels trapped in her grasp and her lips on his.

He doesn't quite know what to do, never does quite know what to do when he's kissed in this body, but with her it's doubly so, because his hearts are so full of pain and, and, _wait a moment Rose Tyler is kissing him… screw the pain and screw what comes after. Rose Tyler is kissing him._

His arms stop flailing about like a drowning fish, and one hand rests on her shoulder while the other tucks itself around her waist, pulling her closer to him, because this is the first time she'll ever kiss him, and the last time he'll ever kiss her, and he's determined to make it count. He burns the feel of her lips on _these_ lips in his memory, adding it to the too-scant pile of Rose-kisses, the smell of her, the feel of her beneath his hands, the swelling and frantic beating of his hearts. His hands come to her face, unwilling to let her get away as he deepens the kiss, tasting her, loving her.

And then, too soon, (too soon, always too soon), she pulls away, and he's in a dazed shock. She smiles at him cheekily (the minx), and oh how he wants to pull her back to him, doesn't know how he resists sweeping her off her feet and bringing her back to the TARDIS to show her the stars.

"See ya around, then," she says, and, before he can say another word, she flounces away, all bubbly spirit and carefree happiness and silky blonde hair, and he watches her go, watches her walk away from him for the last time.

He can feel it approaching, the darkness, the loneliness, the pain, and _oh he knew this was a bad idea._ He walks away, his hearts heavy, and goes back to his TARDIS to fly away.

This time, there is no going back. This time, he sets the coordinates for Victorian London and his cloud, and he pulls the wibbly lever. He can't go back. He can never go back.

But when the floor stops shaking and he opens the blue doors, he finds himself not on his cloud, but in a hospital.

-?-

**A/N:** _Almost done! The next chapter is the last! Be prepared for feels! :D_

_Please leave a review!_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:**_ Last chapter! Be prepared for feels!_

**-CHAPTER FOUR-**

-?-

"What?" he mutters, irritated. He wants to go back to his cloud, he's had enough of adventures, doesn't want it anymore, can't stand the pain. He's just lost Rose Tyler again, he's lost the Ponds, and he can't risk another adventure because all he does is screw up people's lives.

However, when the TARDIS doesn't take him where wants to go, there's normally a good reason for it (there better be), so he steps out of his blue box and steps into the hospital.

He sniffs. He hates hospitals. Even one with a little shop. He sticks his hands in his pockets and wanders, because he's bound to come across something interesting. He stops a nurse.

"What year is this?" he asks her. She gives him an odd look, and he thinks she's assuming he's escaped from the mental ward. He doesn't mind. He gets that a lot.

"1986," she tells him in a thick London accent. "I suggest you get back to your ward, dearie, before you're missed."

Then she hurries off, busy, things to do.

"Right," mutters the Doctor. "1986, what's significant about 1986?"

Nothing interesting, so far as he can remember, happens in a hospital in London in 1986, but that's normally what he turns up for anyway, so he keeps his eyes peeled. He wanders the corridors of the hospital, and his hearts nearly stop when he hears a familiar voice.

"Right, Jackie, I said I'd be right back, I was just gettin' some tea for ya, see, love? _Tea._"

"Oh yeah? And I suppose that's what you told that nurse, eh, Pete? You been messin' about while you're wife's been in here givin' birth to your daughter?"

"No! Jackie, come on, how thick d'ya think I am? I'm in here with you, ain't I? Gettin' you tea, do ya think I'm completely heartless?"

"I wouldn't put it past ya!"

1986. The Doctor finally realized what was significant about 1986. That was the year Rose was born.

He was going to give the TARDIS one hell of an earful when he was done here.

Swallowing nervously, he strode towards the door Jackie and Pete's voices were coming from, and hesitantly entered.

"Oh, and 'ere's himself. Just who the hell are you, then?" said Jackie Tyler to him, looking flustered and red-faced and angry.

"I'm the Doctor," he said in a hushed voice.

"Well, you're not my Doctor," said Jackie irritably. The Doctor smiled. Because really, he wasn't. Jackie Tyler's Doctor wore pinstripes and converse, not tweed and a bowtie. Or, really, leather and jumpers.

She had yet to give birth, judging by her protruding belly and general irritably-ness. He really didn't want to hang around to watch Jackie Tyler give birth to the love of his life (Really, even by his standards, that was just too weird).

"You're right, I'm not," he said.

"Well, then, who the hell are you?"

"I'm just…passing by," he said. "I'll just go now. Good luck with the …baby-ness."

He ducked out before she could throw something at him.

Despite his earlier misgivings, he did hang around. Mostly in the little shop, he waited. He didn't want to watch Jackie Tyler give birth, but he checked up on her occasionally as he waited.

It was a long wait, and he wondered if he oughtn't just pop back in the TARDIS and skip the rest, but something told him to hang around, so he did.

He waited, and he tried not to care how dull waiting was.

And it's not until three o'clock in the morning that he passes by the infant ward, and there she is, all tiny and swaddled in pink. He uses the physic paper on the nurse and enters, passing by the rows and rows of newborns to reach the baby who's destined to become the woman who steals the Doctor's hearts.

She's perfectly healthy, all pink and new with a tuft of yellow hair on her head. She's swaddled in her pink blankets, peacefully asleep. The Doctor's lip trembles as he leans over her cot, and he can't help himself as he picks her up, ever so gently, and holds her in his arms.

She's so tiny, and it's hard to believe she'll grow up to be so fierce and strong. It's not so hard to believe that she'll be all soft and cuddly, like she is when he first meets her, because she's so soft and cuddly now. He can see it. He can see, too, the strength that is in her grip as her tiny hand comes out of it's blankets and clasps around his finger. Latching onto him and never letting go, like she always does. Holding his hand as best she can.

He smiles as tears spring to his eyes at the contact. She burrows herself into his arms, making herself comfortable. She wriggles her way into his hearts and makes her home there yet again.

"Rose," he whispers to her. She opens her new eyes and he leans in close, bringing her up to his face, so she can see him. She gurgles happily, and he smiles at her.

"Yes, hello to you too!" he says.

She gestures towards his bow tie with a squeally baby noise and he grins, straightening his bow tie.

"Yes, it is. Bow ties _are_ cool. Just as cool as pinstripes, I shouldn't think," says the Doctor.

Rose gurgles.

"Oh, never mind me. I'm just a silly old man. You'll understand someday."

Rose squeals. The Doctor laughs.

"Yes! You've got so much to look forward to, you know. You're going to see so many fantastic things. You'll see stars and planets, you'll fall in love and fight monsters. And you'll fight them and win, my precious Rose."

Rose looks at him in wonder, her brown eyes that have seen so little yet see right through his soul already.

"Yes, you are. You are going to be _fantastic."_

Rose smiles at him, a toothless, happy baby smile, and he grins right back. He holds her, cradled in his arms, until she drifts off to sleep. He holds her, looking at her, watching her, and tears spring to his eyes. He has to let her go. He knows he does.

He places her back in her cradle, ever so gently. He leans over, and kisses her on her soft baby head. He leans in close, his lips a hair's breadth away from her ear, and the Doctor whispers.

It's his last chance to say it, after all.

"_Rose Tyler, I love you."_

**-?-**

**A/N:**_ Keep calm, and remember Rose is coming back for the 50th. :) So, here we are at last, the end. Almost. There's still an epilogue._

_ I'm quite proud of myself. It's the first story I've managed to actually properly finish! (YAY!) Therefore, it would mean quite a lot to me if you would leave a review, and tell me if I hit you right in the feels or not! I really hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it, it's been fun! Thanks for sticking around till the end! Now go watch the end of Doomsday and try not to cry. :)_

_Hold on! Don't push that close button yet, there's an epilogue!_

_Don't forget to leave a review!_


	5. Epilogue

**A/N:**_ Okay, I hadn't planned on doing an epilogue of any kind, actually I was kinda torn on it. Because I was quite content with how I ended it. But I wrote this anyway after I was finished, just for the hell of it, but I was undecided on posting it. But...well...I must have been less torn than I thought, because all it took was one review asking me to post an epilogue for me to post this. So you all have a "Guest" to thank for this Epilogue. _

_I'm fairly convinced I've ruined the ending by posting this. But ahh, whatever. Geronimo._

* * *

**-EPILOGUE-**

"I remember."

Their flat is quiet, the children are put to bed. Rose sits on the couch, a cup of tea in her hands. The Doctor is half asleep, splayed on his chair with his brainy specs hanging off one ear and an abandoned book open on his chest.

He starts awake when Rose speaks, his eyes snapping open. Rose's eyes are wide as she stares into the flickering flames in the fireplace.

"Whose—what?" the Doctor says as he jumps awake, sitting up. The book falls on the floor with a dull _thud_. Rose turns to look at him, and he blinks the sleepiness out of his eyes.

"I remember," Rose repeats. The Doctor's dark eyebrows draw together.

"You remember what?"

"It was you," she says, the memories flooding back. "All those times. How could I have forgotten?"

The Doctor clearly has no clue what she's on about, but he tries to be understanding and listen. He's getting better at doing that.

"How d'you mean? What was me?"

Rose blinks, focusing. She sets down her mug of tea as turns to the Doctor to try and explain, and remember.

"Well, it was _you_ but it wasn't you. It was a different you. You saved me from Jimmy Stone. You helped me with my homework," suddenly she laughs. "And I kissed you! God, I didn't even remember! _How_ could I forget that?"

"You did what?" says the Doctor, not quite keeping up. He's pretty sure he would have remembered had Rose kissed him. Blimey, he was getting slow. This human life was creeping up on him.

"I never knew who you were. _John Smith,_ you called yourself! John Smith! Of course!" Rose laughs, and claps a hand to her forehead. "It was _you!"_

"What are you on about, Rose?"

"Don't you remember?" she says. Then she blinks, and shakes her head. "Of course not. How could you? It wasn't you. It was future you. You wore a _bow tie_. With a _tweed jacket. How_ could I have not figured that out sooner? Who else would dress like that?"

"Oi!" says the Doctor indignantly. "I'll have you know, bow ties are cool."

"And when I was a little girl! That was _you_ on the swing!"

Rose lets out a bark of laughter in her disbelief, and puts a hand to her forehead. The Doctor looks at her with that _Last-of-the-Time-Lords_ look.

"Rose," says the Doctor finally. "I never went back into your past. I never went back and saw you as a little girl, I never saved you from Jimmy Stone, and we never kissed before—"

Rose looks at him in surprise. "Before what, Doctor?"

She still can't remember what happened on Satellite Five, her mind still protected from the Bad Wolf. He shakes his head_._

"Never mind. Rose, I never went back in your timeline. And I never wore a bow tie and a tweed jacket in any of my incarnations. Well, I wore a bow tie back in Two…oh, blimey, I was an odd little man back then…"

Rose shook her head. "But no, it had to have been you! You said…you said you were a Doctor…and…and hold on…you mentioned it. You said," Rose struggles with her memory for a moment and the Doctor looks at her with a steady concern. "You said I'd forget, but that I'd remember one day. You said I'd understand."

The Doctor looks somewhat surprised. "Wow, well, that's very me. Enigmatic all over. Did I say anything else? Do you remember?"

"You said…" Rose struggles to remember, placing her fingers on her temple. The Doctor moves from his chair to sit beside her on the couch, and places a hand on her shoulder. "You said…oh…" Rose gasps, and covers her mouth with her hand. Suddenly there are tears in her eyes.

"Hey," he says, brushing her hair away from her face. "Hey, hey, shh, it's alright. What did I say?"

"You said you're sorry," says Rose. She sniffs, and a tear falls down her face. "And you said you miss me."

The Doctor is silent, for once. But Rose is not all that surprised. In his years as a human, he's gained a lot more compassion in his ability to understand humans. And he understands one human better than all the rest. He smiles softly, but his brown eyes suddenly become big, dark pools of infinite wisdom and sadness.

"And so I do," he says gently. Rose sniffs and looks up at him, confused. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. He cups her cheek in his hand. "He was me. He wasn't me from the past, though. He was me from the future. He's a future regeneration, and he misses you, Rose."

Rose closes her eyes, and makes to wipe away her tears, but the Doctor beats her to it. He wipes away her tears and kisses her on her forehead.

"He went back to see you. Back before you knew him."

"Why?"

"Because he loves you. Because he needs you."

Rose sniffs, and the Doctor pulls her into his arms. He knows, as she does, that there's no way back, and that they're happy, and she won't try to get back. So he's not worried that she'll leave him. He knows what this means to her, though, so he comforts her as best he can. He's the Doctor, after all. He makes people better.

"How could I have left him?"

"You didn't," whispers the Doctor into her hair. "You never did. He knows you're here with me, and that's enough for him. He knows you're happy, and that's all he needs."

"But if he misses me—"

"Of course he misses you, Rose. He loves you so much. He'll always need you. But you have to understand that he can still survive. I'm not saying it's easy for him. No, not at all. It's the hardest thing, to leave you behind. But he can run. He can live."

"But he…he looked so sad. Oh, no. He's alone, isn't he? He's alone and sad and…oh, god he'll do something stupid…"

The Doctor smiles, then, and he grins at Rose.

"Oh, don't worry. Some bird will smile at him. Something impossible will come along and he'll come down off his cloud to solve a mystery. He may be alone right now, but he's never really alone for long."

"So he'll be okay?" asked Rose.

"He'll always be okay," said the Doctor, with a reassuring smile. And Rose looked satisfied with his answer.

And with that, the Doctor took Rose's hand, and gave her a gentle kiss, smiling at her. She smiled in return, and they both sat on the couch in front of the fire, happy and content with their ordinary human lives, and their message from the Doctor.

Because, though there was never enough time for the Doctor and Rose, they had all the time in the world.

The Doctor pulled his Rose Tyler close, and buried his nose in her hair, gave her a gentle kiss. She smiled, and snuggled into her Doctor's chest.

"Just remember, Rose Tyler, I love you."

And as the human Doctor and Rose Tyler were enjoying their ordinary human lives; a universe away, some bird did smile at the Doctor. He did come off his cloud, to solve an impossible mystery in the form of an impossible girl.

**-THE END-**


End file.
